


Confession

by lyriumlovesong



Series: The Rabbit and The Lion [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inquisitor has the feels, Lyrium, Lyrium Addiction, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7469703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyriumlovesong/pseuds/lyriumlovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen tells the Inquisitor about his decision to stop taking lyrium. The Inquisitor reconciles her feelings with help from a place she wouldn't have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

“Are you in pain?”

The question fell from Freya’s lips automatically as she processed what her Commander had just told her. He’d stopped taking lyrium, and she didn’t know much about Templars and their addiction, but he’d told her the possible outcomes himself just seconds ago.

_Some go mad… others die._

“I can endure it,” he told her earnestly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

She searched for words. What if he _did_ die? Or lose his mind? Could _she_ endure it?

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, taking a measured breath. “I respect what you’re doing.”

She tried to hide the hesitation in her voice, the fear for his safety. She wanted to support what _he_ wanted. To show her apprehension would be selfish.

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” he said, his expression grateful. “The Inquisition’s army must always take priority. Should anything happen…”

There were more words after this, but the fog around Freya’s brain muffled them. Leave it to Cullen to make everything about the Inquisition. She knew _she_ should be doing the same, but in this moment, with all the feelings that had been taking hold of her heart lately, she couldn’t bring herself to think about anything but his safety and all these new fears.

She needed fresh air.

“I’m sure you’ll perform your duties admirably as always, Commander. If you’ll please excuse me…”

She trailed off and turned to leave.

Cullen watched her go, hoping he hadn’t inadvertently said the wrong thing yet again. This had been an awkward conversation for them both, he knew. There had been none of their usual playful banter. He looked down at the wooden box sitting on his desk, full of his various lyrium implements, unused for months now. He’d practiced this talk alone in his office a hundred times, but in his mind it had never ended with her rushing out the door without giving him a reason why.

Heaving a sigh, he shut the lid and stashed the box away.

 

____________________________________

 

Freya sat down on a garden bench next to a pot of herbs, unlacing her boots. Mother Giselle was tending to a flowering bush nearby and smiled as she noticed the elf. She approached the Inquisitor, who was now wiggling her bare feet, enjoying the cool mountain breeze across her toes.

“Few things are as delightful as the feeling of soft grass on one’s soles,” the Revered Mother said, her hands clasped in front of her. “How are you, Your Worship?”

“A bit troubled, if I’m being honest,” Freya replied with a frown as she stood. “I needed to be outside. You find comfort in the Chant, Mother Giselle. For me, the woods are my chapel and the birdsong my gospel. But this is as close to that as we have in Skyhold.”

“Would you care to tell me of your troubles?”

“I…" She hesitated, not wanting to be too specific but feeling an immense need to relieve herself of the weight of these feelings and fears. "I’m having difficulty reconciling some… _personal_ feelings with my duties as Inquisitor.”

“Ah,” said Mother Giselle, nodding. “Yes. I wondered.”

“You wondered?” asked Freya, raising an eyebrow.

“It is not hard for me to see that you have feelings for our Commander, Your Worship. And even less difficult to see his feelings for _you_.”

“I see.” Freya looked off into the middle distance. _His_ feelings for _her_. That was something, at least.

“Walk with me?” asked Mother Giselle, gesturing toward the path that led around the garden. Freya nodded. The two of them walked in silence for a moment, the Revered Mother and the Inquisitor each stooping every so often to pull a dead flower off a bush or uproot a weed. Mother Giselle paused in front of a small tree and gazed up at the leaves, which were glowing a bright, backlit chartreuse in the afternoon sun.

“You know, of course, that the Sisters of the Chantry are celibate,” she said, looking back down at Freya. The elf nodded. “Having feelings for another person, falling in _love_... it makes it difficult to feel we can commit to our duties sometimes. The Chantry believes that by ensuring we do not marry or have children, we will find it easier to give our full devotion to the service of the Maker.”

“So… are you saying I _shouldn’t_ form such relationships?” asked Freya.

“Not at all. I think the Chantry’s notion is narrow-minded and foolish.”

Mother Giselle smiled at the look of incredulity on the Inquisitor’s face.

“Your Worship, love is a weapon _infinitely_ more powerful than evil. It can be our shield, our sword, our healing salve… and it can be the elixir we need to fight ever harder for what we believe in. Don’t try to separate your feelings for Commander Cullen from your duties as Inquisitor. _Channel_ _them_ into your work. Make them the fuel that keeps the fire in your heart burning. Because dark days are ahead, and sometimes it will be all you have to give you strength. Love is never a weakness. Above all, remember that.”

She gave Freya’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and took her leave, heading back toward the inside of the keep.

The Inquisitor looked up toward the parapets where Cullen's office was, her heart feeling full and her mind clear. She would have to tell him, and soon.

With Corypheus' threat looming, tomorrow was never guaranteed.


End file.
